


The Cessation

by truebluetrash



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:40:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23074135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/truebluetrash/pseuds/truebluetrash
Summary: After a total, worldwide blackout, the population of Earth is left struggling. In a certain city in France, however, two leaders step up for their country and work to their best abilities, though with opposing beliefs. The grating communication melds, though, when a larger force threatens the land that they've dedicated their life to protecting.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 3
Kudos: 13





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first fic ever, so I know it's going to be rusty and probably disjointed at times. Stick with me, though, and if you want, tell me what you think in the comments! I'd love feedback because honestly I have no idea what I'm doing :)

No one ever figured out what happened: one night, a cold night in March, a car’s headlights extinguished as the engine became cold. Down the street, illuminated windows blinked out, as did the lampposts lining the vacant street. The ignorable hum that boasted electricity and power grew dim, and the next morning, mass panic ensued. Internationally, the era of technology and electricity became a chapter of the past, and a new period began: The Empty Years.  
Marinette can remember her graduation ceremony, even though it was hardly a ceremony. With no power, officials chose to pass out the diplomas in the bright sunlight on a random morning in May, and there was nothing more to it. Cap and gowns were worn by few, as many accepted the creditable certificate and left immediately, going back home to where it was safe.  
Ah, yes. The safety.  
The brief period after The Cessation, crime rates skyrocketed. Her Ladybug mask mattered not to the Paris populations anymore, and the cat and ladybug chose to deem themselves as community leaders, acting as a gentle, guiding hand to the panicked people.  
Looking out from the broad balcony, Marinette scoffed. The thought of going about it gently swiftly had soon flew out of the window, as the populations were adamant to ruin the civilization of France, destroying societal norms to unbelievable extents, and besmirching the wish of returning to a normal life.  
Chat had been angry at her, she can remember. They were eighteen, about three months out of high school, and she can remember the sweat beads lining her forehead as they shouted amongst the group of other officials leading the depleting town of Paris.  
“It’s not right!” She had yelled, frustrations overtaking her normal calm exterior.  
“You want to know what’s not right? Sitting back and watching as our people tear each other apart! We require a government so that these families can live life in peace,” Chat Noir fumed, voice slightly raising with every passing word. “That is, quite simply, our only option.”  
“Setting up a dictatorship at this moment would cause more harm than good, and you know that.” She shot back, and watched him mentally reel before thundering his retort. “It will not be a dictatorship.”  
Marinette watched as Chat Noir’s eyes darkened, an unimaginable anger filling him to his very brim. Just a mere two days before, he bore witness to his father’s murder, and now she was watching the pure grief blind his actions and mental process. “It will turn into one, if you do not proceed with extreme caution.”  
“DO YOU REALLY THINK SO LITTLE OF ME TO BELIEVE THAT I WON’T?!” The boy raged, slamming his hands onto the table while standing with such force that his chair flew back. The room was silent, with every man and woman uneasily eyeing the black-clad hero. Marinette felt glued to her seat watching the violent outburst. She had never seen him like this, in all of their years of working together.  
“Maybe it’s best if we took a break,” She offered steely to the other witnesses at the table, and one by one, they all stood and quickly left the room. “You need to control yourself. I understand that this is a tough time for you, but you also must think clearly.”  
Chat Noir glared at her, eyes full of such disdain and anger that she wanted to leave the room as well. “I am thinking clearly. You do not realize that these people are beginning to get out of control. If we have any hope to control them, we have to implement something, and for that to occur, we need people in charge.”  
“People in charge?” Marinette almost laughed. “You mean yourself. You’re suggesting totalitarianism, essentially.”  
“I’m suggesting laws that will restart France and push it to become a beneficial place.”  
“No, you want to control everything. You want to decide everything, and you want everyone of this country to bow down to you. You’re allowing anger to overcome you.” Chat Noir seethed, slowly pulling the chair back up to the table and taking a seat. His ideas weren’t bad, to say the least, but the premise surrounding them was corrupt. He wished to control the society in such a way that would suck the human spirit out of the body, sitting on the throne that all the populations would bow down to. She had no idea where these ideas were stemming from, but Marinette knew that it would be devastating to everyone involved if they were to be implemented. “I suppose we’re at an impasse, then.”  
“Who will support you?” She asked, and then gained an idea, mind turning in the quiet, dark room. Walking to the door that the others escaped from, she called the group back in.  
“What are you doing?” He stood, and watched as the girl he once loved turned to him, arms crossed. “Showing you what would happen if you actually went through with this.”  
Once everyone was seated, she stood at the head of the table with Chat Noir, and politely asked for those agreeing with Chat Noir’s plan to raise their hand.  
A thick silence struck the room, and for a second, there was no movement. Ladybug was ready to turn to her partner with a smirk, pushing reality into his mind until he understood her perceptions.  
However, a quiet hand rose, seven chairs down from Paris’ superheroes. After one, a second and third followed. With wide eyes, Ladybug witnessed about half the table ruin the country’s future. After a quick count, Chat Noir turned to her. “Nine to seven. You’re beat.” Marinette stared at the officials in front of her. The group was meant to dictate a safe environment for years to come, but instead, they chose to tear it down. “It’s not right.”  
Her whisper fell short of everyone else’s ears except for Chat’s as he turned to face the table with open arms. “With that in mind, let this be the first meeting of France’s new government.”  
“No,” Marinette interjected. “No.”  
“You’re either with me or against me, Ladybug.” He hissed, and Marinette looked to him with wide eyes. “If you do not wish to partake in this, leave. But,” He added quickly as the girl started angrily at the door. “Realize that if you are against me, you will pay.”  
On the outside, she ignored his warnings and left. The inside sting from his complete 180 of character, however, deeply hurt and she coldly realized that the person in that room was no longer the friend she had had for years. His threats were so easily made that it scared her, but a thicker layer of skin was already forming, and she decided that the only way to bring him, her partner and friend, was to fight.  
Marinette thought to herself. How many years ago was that, now? It had been a while, as she had transformed from awkward teenager to elegant woman, ruling over The Latreille, the guerrillas against The Bombay.  
Five. Five years.  
That encounter was the last she had seen of her partner. She sometimes heard his name in a dim pub, but the memories of the years before, memories of the good, were entirely tarnished. When thinking of him, she can only envision the darkness that swirled within his eyes, transforming the green irises to a deep emerald that was unrecognizable unless against the blonde curls.  
Her fingers drummed against the balcony railing. The sun was beginning to rise, and she knew that soon, her assistant would knock on her door, informing her of today’s duties. For just a moment, she wished to go back in time, back to high school, where her biggest worries were akumas, and not explosions lacing the beloved buildings that her group ruled over. It was a ruthless fight; absolute war hadn’t been proclaimed, but the extent of damages that both organizations suffered could classify it as one.  
It had begun as a slight change of society; passive rules that conformed people to regularity a bit, such as curfew and regulations on food, but then he began recruiting young men from around the country. Once Chat Noir’s hold on France tightened to a breaking point, however, Marinette felt it necessary to take action on the upcoming dictator as he began to practice population control-- sending his soldiers out in the night to kill numbers of newborns and elderly. The Latreille officially formed when he sent out his workers to kill her following, attempting to quiet the rebellious thoughts that were forming in the backs of some individuals’ minds. An almost regal status was placed on her shoulders as she led her people, but she refused to control her group as a dictator, differing from Chat Noir and his Bombay. She sneered at the thought of it: being perceived as the absolute be-all, end-all. Turning away from the sunrise, she left the open air and retreated back into her room.  
Marinette was sliding on her shoes, intricate slippers that wrapped about her ankles, when swift knocks were heard at her door. “Come in.”  
The door creaked, and she heard faint footsteps before catching sight of her assistant, who was gripping her papers with white knuckles. “What is it?”  
“We have a problem, ma’am.” The girl said while handing Marinette the daily papers that required signatures and reading.  
“Out with it, Dania.”  
“The Bombay is requesting a meeting with you. Friday, at noon.” Breath left her. A meeting? Such an odd request, especially since they’d never requested one even when the two groups began their descent into maddening fights. “Should we accept?”  
Marinette’s mind calculated the possible outcomes. If she rejected their proposition, that could anger the opposition, and the Latreille could face years more of devastating violence. If she accepted, they could take the chance at assassination or kidnapping, which could include torture to expose sacred information regarding her people. However, if she accepted, they could have a civilized meeting regarding the current status of France.  
The conditions were dire. Marinette felt herself reach a mental stalemate, but she took her chances, herself not fully believing it when the words left her mouth: “Accept. We’ll see what they want.”  
“Ma’am?”  
“You heard me, Dania.”  
“Well, yes, but why?”  
“Why what?”  
“Why are we giving them a chance?” Marinette looked up from the paper in her hands, taken aback by the girl’s verbosity. Dania was known for being reserved and usually mute if chatter was unnecessary, a trait that Marinette both admired and welcomed.  
She thought about the question. Why? Marinette truly couldn’t think of a good answer besides ‘A hunch?’. She remembered Chat’s eyes and wondered if any of the good was left inside the green irises, and if that was the purpose of the meeting. “I’m not sure, Dania. Genuinely. Perhaps they would like to discuss the fighting, but for some reason, I doubt that. All I can tell you is that though we’re going into this blind, it’ll probably be dangerous.”  
The assistant nodded.  
Silence returned to her room as Dania closed the door behind her. Marinette steadied herself, sitting on her bed, shifting her skirt about her, and continued to mull the circumstances. Why now? Even further, why would they want to have a meeting in the first place? Her eyes skirted over to her dresser, to a certain drawer that held one of her greatest possessions: her Ladybug mask.  
Though she had gone without it for the past two or so years, she was sent the reeling realization that Chat Noir had never known her identity. If she continued her practice, he would know that Ladybug was Marinette Dupain-Cheng.  
She couldn’t decipher if that was a good or bad thing.  
Throughout the rest of the morning, she trained against her sparring partner, Rowan. No speaking and simply letting anger loose through physical violence was a surprising tactic for calming down the mind. An hour out of noon, she returned to her room and began to fix herself for upcoming meetings.  
Donning a deep magenta, almost-toga cut dress, she braided her black hair along the side of her scalp. She stared at her reflection, seeing her younger self, before her sunspots and scars. However, as of the present, her hair had grown a considerable amount, practically hitting the base of her spine, and her face and shoulders had become a flurry of freckles, as she couldn’t tan after UV exposure.  
“Ma’am?” Marinette heard, and snapped out of her trance. “Yes?”  
“It’s time for your meeting with Antoine.”

**********

Meeting the enemy for the first time in five years sent nervous chills throughout her spine, but as she readied herself, wearing a black dress that fit about her torso and flared at the waist, an odd anticipation replaced her anxieties. Of course, there is the remaining possibility of death and kidnapping, but Marinette felt herself prepared enough to fight back. Dania knocked on the door, signaling to the woman that it was time for her departure. Her eyes stuck to the drawer, but something pushed her out of the door, hands empty of the mask.  
“Where is this taking place?”  
“Versailles, ma’am.”  
She intook a deep breath, hoping to cure the sudden onset of clammy hands. Dania looked worried as well, which was no aid to Marinette’s mind. “Dania, if you’re going to be nervous, please try to not show it so much.”  
The young woman, around twenty, laughed, and looked down as they walked through the hallways of the base. The building seemed entirely still, as if everyone inside the walls was simultaneously holding their breath.  
The carriage was waiting for them when they stepped out into the bright sun, a stark difference from the dim, candle-lit interior that Marinette had resided in all morning. The long ride began, and both women sat in silence as each bump of the road seemed to reverberate in the cabin. The destruction of society was evident as they slowly emerged from the populous area, and most everything was green. Diminishing buildings and tired looking landmarks stared back at the passengers, and Marinette realized how little of the rest of the country she had seen. However, they were nearing enemy territory, and she also realized that there was a reason. The further away from Paris they were carried, more and more signs of fire splotched out the green, showing the purpose of trying to be reborn in such a grim situation. Marinette settled back into the seat, staring straight ahead. There was no reason to spook oneself simply from the surroundings.  
More time passed before the vehicle lurched to a stop. Marinette met Dania’s gaze, and slowly opened the carriage door, allowing the assistant to exit first.  
Stepping out, she was met by the looming structure that she could only assume as The Bombay’s base. It held a Gothic appeal, one that Marinette couldn’t ignore was aesthetically pleasing, but also contained an air of rage-driven potency. Two men dressed in all black appeared, approaching them, and a cold feeling washed over Marinette as her pulse quickened, and she turned to Dania. “Go back into the carriage. Stay there until I come out.”  
“What? But-”  
“Now. Go.” Dania nodded, glancing at the oncoming men one last time before returning to the vehicle. As they neared, Marinette observed their faces. They seemed slightly older, maybe late twenties or early thirties, and looked as if they should not be provoked. Coming to a stop in front of her, the taller one spoke. “Why did the other flee?”  
“Because I instructed her to. I believed Chat Noir was expecting only me, or was I wrong?”  
The two men exchanged looks. “Fine. Follow us.”  
Marinette was led into the majestic building, eyebrows rising when she entered the premises. The interior was elegant and extravagant, boasting riches beyond belief. The inside, she noted, was the exact opposite of the outside world, and she wondered if this implication was brought on on purpose. A seemingly distant safe haven from the reality of their society, an environment of death and destruction and endless violence.  
Stuck in her thoughts, Marinette did not realize that the men had stopped until she was a few inches from one of their backs. She could already feel the adrenaline pumping out by the gallon into her bloodstream, but a certain numbness began to cloud her brain, bringing a calm outlook to the otherwise daunting situation. The sound of a door opening fully brought her to awareness, and she was pulled into an empty room, jumping slightly at the sound of the door slamming behind her.  
At first, she sighed. Kidnapping it is. However, the table and surrounding chairs snapped the thought in half, and she realized that this was simply a conference room.  
The sight of the set up pulled her back five years to that fated meeting that had dragged her from her friend. She looked about the room, admiring the stained glass that shot colored rays throughout the room, supplying a rainbow light source that bounced from wall to wall. Marinette stood at the head of the table, fingers brushing the finely-finished wood edge, before turning at the sound of the door opening once again.  
Chat Noir.  
He looked majestic. All-black fabric covered his skin, only revealing that he was human above the neck. He had tanned skin, the bronzed gleam resembling the color of the sands that filled deserts in pictures that she had seen years ago. His chiseled facial structure and skin-tight shirt showed his powerful, athletic build, and as her eyes ran up his torso to his face, she noticed that her partner was not wearing the usual black mask. She was staring, she knew, but the eyes that were burning such a vibrant green held the emotion of surprise within as well.  
“Marinette?”  
“Adrien?”

********

“She never wrote back?”  
“No, sir.”  
The older man struggled to keep up with his Roi, the leader of the community that he had known for so long. Suddenly, the blonde stopped in front of him at a door, which Gabriel only assumed was his Roi’s room. Looking back at the man over his shoulder, the young man wasted no words with his underling. “Notify me if she shows.”  
Gabriel could barely manage a mere ‘yes, sir’ before the door was shut in his face, and he turned on his heel before sulking back to the main meeting room.  
The blonde angrily opened his closet, pulling open the flimsy door with such vigor that one of the latches tore from the wood. He looked down at his attire; the regular training outfit for his soldiers-- solid gray leggings and a gray tunic-- and decided that an outfit change was necessary after he cleaned himself up.  
Coming from a three hour long fighting class, his hands were red and his body was covered in a sheen of sweat, and as he looked in the mirror, he was disgusted with what he was forced to see. The boy, the pathetic boy that lived a pathetic life before The Cessation, stared back at him, and he had to blink a few times to push himself into the present. Not much had changed, but he noticed how entirely exhausted he appeared. A purple tinge swept under his eyes, accompanied with a line that showed his eye bags, and his eyebrows drooped with sheer fatigue. He turned away from the mirror, starting for the bathroom so he could get to work on his hands and chest. Stripping of the tunic revealed the multitudes of oozing wounds, some simple nicks, but one, delivered by the slicing of a sword under his left rib, sent stinging rays of pain throughout his body. The gash bubbled out red, and as he dabbed at it with a wet towel, he muttered obscenities that the old him would’ve never dreamed of saying.  
The old him. Remembering how weak he was made him feel repulsed to his core. Beginning his path as leader, as king, showed him just how piteous he used to be, but the path had led him here, where he was right now.  
And right now, he was in a crazy amount of pain.  
To distract himself, he imagined how the meeting would go. ‘Ladybug! Remember when we were friends and then I almost killed you and your organization? How funny was that? Well, forget about all of that, because now I need your help snuffing out a bigger force!’  
Adrien sighed. The group, The Latreille, had been detrimentally, and, as much as he hated to admit it, successfully, damaging The Bombay. He knew he had passed a line when he called for population control, but the rates of death due to starvation and malnutrition were getting out of hand. However, he stopped the practice once a fourth of his soldiers were killed in a massacre, and instead sent the remaining underlings to The Latreille directly, hoping to put an end to the rebellion. He could only imagine Ladybug’s anger towards him, and all of the rage that had been pushed away by the distracting thoughts came flooding back.  
This was all of his fault; all of the resentment and coldness. That day, the last day that he saw his best friend, he knew he was going out of control. It was practically an out-of-body experience, watching himself threaten Ladybug, the girl that had had his back from day one. He clenched his already damaged fist and tore the towel.  
All his fault.  
A knock brought his vision up from the floor, and a deep voice sounded from the other side of the door. “Sir?”  
“What?!” Adrien snapped.  
“She has just arrived. Alexandre and Pierre are escorting her to the first floor meeting room.”  
She’s here? It was almost unbelievable, and for some odd reason, a juvenile sense of excitement filled his bones. Though sending the letter practically a week ago, there was no response, and he was ready to be stood up. “Alright.”  
He breathed heavily before glancing at the torn skin on his knuckles; striding to the dresser, he grabbed his black gloves. Changing into all black, he attempted to cover all his body that he could, not wanting any scars or wounds to peek out at Ladybug. The old gash on his forehead could not be helped, though, and he swiftly exited his room.  
Heart rate building with each step towards Ladybug, he forced himself to stop at the door and take a deep breath before opening the door.  
He saw her, and all of his breath left his lungs.  
She turned to look at him, and he couldn’t help but stand there in awe. Oh, how she had grown. She was a completely different person, but at the same time, she was still the girl that he would vent to on chilly rooftops deep into the night. He didn’t even notice the absence of her mask until she met his eyes, and a jolt went through his body. Blue eyes dug into his soul, and the freckled nose, the eyes, the raised eyebrow, and the mouth that always held a small smile all pieced together to form another person he knew before The Cessation: “Marinette?”  
“Adrien?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried hard to get this out ASAP while trying to keep it good, hopefully I delivered (lol). As always, I'd love constructive criticism, comments, or really anything! Thanks for reading :)

She sat across from him, and at first, nothing was said. The air was full of pure tension, and Marinette couldn’t tell if his blank expression was good or bad. Good as in he wasn’t trying to kill her, or bad as in he was trying to decipher just how exactly he was going to kill her. “You’re Adrien.”

He laughed, and she bristled at the reaction, but then mentally wanted to slap herself. This changes nothing, she thought. He is still the same person that killed hundreds of people in cold blood. And then, almost like he could read her mind, he spoke. “I assume your contemptuous tone originates from my actions as a ruler.”

Marinette wanted to scream. “You mean the murders.”

“I mean doing what had to be done.”

She stood, and at the same moment, so did he. Fury flowed through her veins, pulsating through her heart. “Those were innocent people!” Adrien stared at her with empty eyes. “You treated The Cessation like an opportunity to do these unspeakable things, to rule with no qualms about the actions you were carrying out!”

“I called it off once I fully realized the situation. If anything, you and The Latreille have been the cause of more casualties than us. While we did indeed kill approximately eighty people, more than two hundred have been caught in the crossfire, with much over half of those deaths stemming from your side of the sword.” Adrien replied coldly but honestly. There was not an ounce of fabrication in his statement, and he could see Marinette physically draw back. She tore her eyes away from his and shakily sat back down. He followed her actions.

“Why am I here?” Finally, a question Adrien could answer without feeling like he was berating his old friend. “We have a situation.”

The woman scoffed and raised her eyebrow, but leaned forward, allowing her arms to rest on the table as she listened to the man. “There’s been disturbances out West, revolts against another organization that is supposedly stemming from the United States. The group is planning, according to those I have set up in Spain, on moving here, and taking over Europe as a whole.”

Marinette opened her mouth like she was going to say something, but silence ensued. “This government, this group, whatever it is; they’re planning for a global domination.”

“How is that any worse than how it is right now?” She snapped, finally meeting his eyes, and leaned back. “We’re practically destroying this country with every battle, even though we’ve been at a stalemate for the past year. Perhaps a new system could help level out our…” She lightly hummed. “Disagreements.”

Adrien felt his anger lick at the corners of his mind. Trying to gain perspective, he attempted to step back from the situation. They were only these two leaders of opposite groups; somewhat miniscule in the scale of an international group. The country of France, being its size, would be easy to take over. He imagined serving under somebody else, and shook his head. “No.”

He was power-hungry, and he was entirely aware of it, but the concept of submitting his willpower to an unknown source frightened him. Marinette, however, didn’t understand his standpoint, and scowled. “This just proves my point. You’re obsessed with the idea of control. I will gain communication with this group and meet with them to understand their ideas.”

She stood to leave, and was almost to the door when he shot up and grabbed her wrist, gently. “Just try to understand my way, please.”

His eyes begged her to stay, and Marinette fully realized just how weird this whole thing was. The odds of them two ruling over France, after being partners without knowing each other’s identities? She could still barely wrap her head around the fact that Chat Noir was, and always had been, the boy she longed for and dreamed about for years, and that he was always right there, at the edge of her fingertips. “Fine.”

And he did. He explained the numbers of meetings he held before announcing his act of population control, in a mental hell, weighing the gains against the deafening losses. His people that he had grown to love as Chat Noir and take care of as Roi, dying by his order. He explained his regret about that day that he pushed her away, sending their fates in two different directions. He explained his mindset now, the terror of the unknown, and the conditions that Jamel had described Spain in after their takeover. Breathless, he finished, and Marinette’s eyes were large, looking anywhere but at him.

“How could we even go about stopping them?” She whispered after what felt like minutes of silence. As she spoke, he became hyper aware of his grip remaining on her wrist, and gently released his hold. “I’m not even sure.”

She sat back down at the table, and wondered how much time had passed. Adrien was staring at her as he sat as well, watching for her thoughts in her expression. “We could notify the surrounding countries that are untouched, like Germany and Italy. Has the United Kingdom been hit yet?”

“Again, I’m not sure. I tried sending somebody up there but I’ve yet to hear anything back yet.”

“Well, how long ago were they sent?” Adrien grimaced.

“About six months.”

“You’ve known about this for six months?! Why just now are you choosing to include me in matters?” She was angry once again, and the man sighed. “I didn’t realize how aggressive they were until I got word back from Spain.”

Silence returned to the atmosphere, and Marinette stood, walking to the stained glass that revealed the exterior world. “Your domain is… impressive.”

Adrien stilled. The tone of her voice was cold, yet she wasn’t completely against him from what he could infer. Of course, the past was unforgivable, but something irked Adrien to mend it all and sweep the woman into his arms. 

Woah.

Sweeping people into arms? The notion was quickly pushed to the back of his mind, but the blood rushing in his ears was harder to ignore. As he glanced at Marinette admiring his base outside the window, he felt himself breathing heavier. The black dress fit along her curves perfectly, and it wasn’t helping that she was leaning slightly to examine the surroundings. Was he... checking her out? Regrettably, he indeed felt his eyes slide back to the wall in front of him, and the blood rushing through his ears spread to the tops of his cheeks, warmth physically showing in the dim room. He coughed. “Yes, I can hardly believe it’s only been together for a few years.”

She hummed, and walked back to the table, standing behind her seat and placing fingers around the back. She looked goddess-like, Adrien thought, with her dark hair tumbling down her chest and the dress boasting leadership and confidence. Her face had certainly slimmed out from her late teenage years, and he realized that not only was this the first time he’d seen her in five years, but also the first time he’s seen her as she truly is: powerful, compassionate, and could-kick-your-ass-at-any-given-moment.   
“What do you need from me?”

“A treaty.” Adrien watched as Marinette chuckled in disbelief, and irritation began to develop in his mind, lightly tracing his words. “The fighting needs to end. You know it and I know it; it’s the only way that we could dream of remaining independent.”

She thought of the state of the world; the broken pieces that seemed impossible to meld together. “Right now?” He nodded. “Who would lead?”

He had prepared for this question. “Dually. You have your people and I have mine, and I doubt that they would merge immediately, but I believe it to be inevitable.”

“So, not only are you thinking of a cease-fire, but you’re talking about an allegiance that would make The Latreille and The Bombay one whole organization?” He nodded again before replying. “One whole organization that would join others to fight against this new superpower.”

“Fine,” She breathed.

*********

The contract was already ready to go, and Marinette was forced to wonder just how long the man had been sitting on this topic. As she signed, the repetitive noises of his shoe tapping against the brick floor echoed, and she eventually snapped at him, earning peaceful silence before handing back the official papers to the stranger looming over her shoulder. Adrien gandered at her all the while, sitting across from her, through his hands that were folded and resting on the bridge of his nose. Before she knew it, the ink was drying and the man left after earning yet another signature from Adrien. The tension lingered in the room that felt overwhelmingly empty, and Marinette desperately felt the need to bring up the past, their days of Ladybug and Chat Noir, but felt it silly to mention what had already passed. He was clearly not the same man she knew, but certain moments caused her to double take. He still held the same air of confidence that could’ve been mistaken for arrogance, and he still, as mentioned, had mannerisms that she could remember hearing behind her desk throughout high school. He looked back at her with those green eyes, the vibrancy knocking the breath out her body, and Marinette wondered just how long she had been staring before he noticed. 

Cutting her eyes away, she cleared her throat and threw her hair behind her shoulders. “Was that all?”

Adrien hummed in acknowledgement before quickly shaking his head. “Did you read the whole thing?”

“Yes,” Marinette said, flicking her eyebrow up. “Then you saw the part about the alliance.”

“I did.”

She felt herself becoming irritated. The paper mentioned the allegiance and all that it held. The new organization would stem from one location only, meaning that Ladybug and Chat Noir would rule together, all whilst living together. “I must ask if you would prefer your base or here.”

“Well, of the short time that I’ve been here, it’s been quite lovely.” She snipped, regret immediately flowing into her mind at the chilly tone of voice, but when the sound of Adrien scornfully chuckling hit her ears, Marinette allowed her built up anger to release. “You call me here at such a random time, and it’s only so you don’t get your ass handed to you when this new power comes. You don’t even say hello-- you don’t even acknowledge the fact that you are Adrien Agreste, who was Chat Noir, who was one of my closest friends for years of my life. I mean, are we just going to forget about all of that? The fact that it was you behind the mask all this time, and that it was me, too! If you truly don’t care that much about me, then I guess I was imagining all that time when you said you were in love with me.” She scoffed after taking a breath. “You didn’t even hesitate to throw it all away. That day, you took your father’s death and used it against the whole country. And now, you keep looking at me with those eyes, those big green eyes, and it’s almost as if you expected me to waltz in here and just forgive you, setting aside years of killing and fighting for what?! You’ve hardly any information on this oncoming enemy, and yet you’re once again, throwing everything away. Part of me doesn’t even know if I should trust you after watching you sign that paper, given your history of loyalty!”

Her face was hot, and he couldn’t take his eyes off of the table in front of him. She was right, they had skirted around discussing some of the most important years of his life. However, she was wrong about his own feelings, and vexation moved his gaze back up to the woman. Adrien felt his barriers go back up, the way they did whenever he felt backed into a corner. “You’re wrong. What was I supposed to say? It’s been five years, Marinette, and I can’t just begin a conversation in this condition of the world talking about high school crushes.” At that, she went beet red, and he felt slight satisfaction knowing he had found her weak spot. “As Ladybug and Chat Noir, you never felt the need to reveal ourselves, so I assumed that it didn’t mean much to you. I loved you, and for years, I was-”

“You loved Ladybug.” She sneered, leaning forward. “If I had known that knowing identities wouldn’t have led to this, of course I would’ve shown you who I was, but it was for the best. We didn’t allow personal lives to mix entirely with our other life, and we barely survived high school without knowing. Imagine what would’ve happened if we did know.”

The blonde stood, and the wound on his torso suddenly sent blinding waves through his body, but he was not going to allow these lies to be told anymore. “It would’ve been perfectly okay! We could’ve had a life together, we could’ve led together!”

She quieted, and Adrien realized what he said too late. “Is that what this is all about? How do I know you’re not just making all of this up to get back with a juvenile crush?!”

“Because there is a legitimate group out there, and I will not allow them to use this country as anything less than what it deserves! If we put our people together, then we won’t have our fighting occurring at the same time as their destruction. Use your damn head, Marinette!” He yelled, and breathed shakily as she recoiled, and it seemed that minutes passed before she finally replied. “Only because I hope that our people will prosper, I’m holding to the treaty: no more fighting. However, I will not stay here. We can lead together through communication, and that is all.”

The woman stood, and approached the door. Hand on the doorknob, she paused, and glanced over her shoulder. “You are not the same person I knew before. That day I assumed that it was grief, but all today has shown me is how truly a fiend you have become.”

Her words hit him like a whip, and he could barely form the words before she was gone for good. “All today has shown me is that I’m glad you are not staying. I could not bear to have such an ignorant soul as my counsel, as that seems to be who you have become.”

The door slammed, and Adrien was left in the room, rainbow rays shining low on the floor, the sun beginning to slowly set.

********

The city had become quiet, and the smoke-billowing horizon that Marinette had become so accustomed to dwindled. It was almost overbearing, as if there was a part of her that itched to go back to fighting, using her favorite knife on the front lines, wiping away opposers as she pushed forward. No communication had been exchanged between her and Adrien since that day, and by the time that it was two weeks past, she had grown antsy. 

Marinette found paper and pens tucked away in her desk. Her hand floated above the parchment, though, unsure of how to begin. She wondered if he had already forgotten about their agreement to lead together, or if he had been too busy to care. At The Latreille, she didn’t do as much as she assumed Adrien did to lead The Bombay, but that was good; or, at least, she believed it to be so. Under her leadership, she didn’t control everything, only stepping into situations when they were most dire. As a result, it was more a title than anything, and the mere thought brought more overthinking: if they were to actually go through with this joint-leadership deal, how would she fare next to one who knows how to rule with all of his heart and head?

Her pen had yet to touch the paper, and she groaned before shoving it back into the desk. Her brain couldn’t get over the blonde, the way he had gazed at her while she sat across from him, the way he acted when he first walked in. She had actually thought for a second that he would say something about how he felt towards her.

Marinette mentally punched herself. Was she back in high school? She forced herself to bitterly swallow and remind herself that this man was the man who willingly killed his own people.

No: she remembered what he said to her about his decision, remembered the desperate, frantic look in his eyes, remembered the way his fingers gripped her wrist with such power that the red marks remained for an unusually long period after being released.

This man was not the monster she was trying to convince herself he was. Adrien Agreste was still Adrien Agreste. 

With that, she reached back into her desk and pulled out the paper once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, I tried adding spaces in between paragraphs so that it's easier to read! Also, Roi means "king" in French! I'm not sure as to when Chapter 3 will be up, but hopefully it will be soon!


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